


YuleTale

by Tome_the_Grimoire



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Chara and Frisk Share a Body, Gen, Houseplant Flowey, Northern European Polytheistic Reconstructionism, POV Second Person, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route - "I want to stay with you.", References to Undertale Genocide Route, reader is sans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 21:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13667202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tome_the_Grimoire/pseuds/Tome_the_Grimoire
Summary: You're at a party for Frisk: some sort of winter holiday or something.Then you mess up.





	YuleTale

Papyrus stops just before the door and you know exactly what he’s about to say before he even turns back to look back at you, “NOW SANS, BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOR. THIS PARTY IS VERY IMPORTANT TO FRISK.”

 

You shrug and, with a fraction more of a smirk than your usual grin, you reply, “no problem, bro.” You would’ve given a pun, but you already gave 12 along the way. The walk across down the street would have gone faster without being stopped to be to told to behave every 3 minutes, but you don’t mind the cold so it’s whatever.

 

Papyrus shifts his pot of spaghetti to one arm and had barely tapped the door when it swings open. Standing in the doorway is a red eyed child in a blue and purple striped sweater covered by white dust and you flinch **hard** before you can stop yourself.

 

“AH, HELLO CHARA AND FRISK. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE ARRIVED TO BESTOW MY STUPENDOUS SPAGHETTI ONTO TODAY’S FESTIVITIES AS PROMISED.” Papyrus announces with his typical enthusiasm.

 

Red eyes above a smug smile look up to your brother. “Thank you very much, Papyrus. Come on inside.”

 

Your brother walks past his once upon a timeline murderer and heads straight to the kitchen which erupts into the noise; Undyne must be in there, if the sudden yelling is anything to go by. You make your way in slower, loitering by the door to tap snow off your slippers. “hey chara.”

 

“Greetings, Sans,” they say as they shut out the cold, “are you feeling well?” As they wait to escort you into the house proper, you can see them hungrily looking for evidence that they upset your peace of mind.  
  
You’re willing to admit to yourself that yeah, you got a flash of golden hall and smears of red. Pap being there, snow on the ground, and that fucking sweater definitely helped to snag those memories up from the muck you keep them buried in. But you can’t let the little deviant know that.

 

“eh, bit cold out. i’m chilled right down to the _bone_ ,” you reply with a wink, all unflappable and good natured.

 

They snort despite themself and don’t catch the small, _Sorry_ , Frisk signs to you as the body sharing kids lead you in.

 

After an eye roll and a “Come along then, we have warm fire and warmer refreshments,” laced with mostly hidden disappointment, you follow. You really wish the little demon wouldn’t try so hard to get a rise out of you, but you’ll never admit that to them.

 

“so, you get dunked on with flour by a flower? what, did you try to _buttercup_ them up into having some holiday cheer?” They turn to you and you watch as wide crimson eyes change to narrow blues as Frisk comes forward. You like to think that Chara is currently sulking in some corner of the kids’ mind.

 

_It’s powdered sugar. I knew about the sweater but they “accidentally” spilled some just as we heard Papyrus outside_ , they sign to you. They stop at the archway to the kitchen and point out, _there’s the snacks and drinks. I’m going upstairs to change_.  
  
“aw, that’s awfully _sweet_ of you, frisk,” you say as they head up to their room.

 

You find yourself a mug of eggnog and a cozy seat in the living room, exchanging pleasantries and puns along the way. You must have been the last ones to arrive because it looks like everyone is already here. You already saw Toriel in the kitchen with Papyrus, MK, and Undyne with Alphys hovering nearby to ogle at her girlfriend. Asgore, Gerson, Mettaton, and Muffet are in the dining room with a reliably grumpy Flowey in the middle trying not to look interested in the turtle’s story. Frisk takes a floor spot at the coffee table where a game of rummy is going on between them and Doggo versus dog marriage.

 

You savor your ‘nog and recline back. You could swear you only blinked and suddenly the house is empty. A quick check outside shows that everyone is in the backyard around a fire. You vaguely remember that being mentioned in the invitation, but you didn’t pay attention. Something about Frisk’s religion and fire and winter and you are really hungry now.

 

You look over to your mug and find it empty, much to your disappointment; now you’ll need to get up to refill it since everyone is outside.

 

As you get up, you spot a sandwich on the table next to you. It’s untouched and warm, a Reuben that is close enough to where your mug was that it must have been left for you. You pick it up and take a bite and it’s absolutely delicious. The rye must have been toasted in a buttered pan. The corned beef is thick and juicy, the swiss gooey. Sauerkraut and Russian dressing are top quality and you grunt a bit in decadent satisfaction.

 

Sandwich in one hand and mug in the other, you head towards the kitchen as you munch to get something to wash it down with.

 

You hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on past the sliding glass door to the yard, so you stop in surprise when it opens to reveal Frisk coming in while holding Flowey. They must not have been paying attention either, and still been expecting you to be asleep, because a mild startle shifts their eyebrows up their forehead. The mild startle blossoms into a lip parting shock before you see their bright blue eyes widen in horror.  
  
You casually glance behind you to check for any eldritch abominations from outside the universe before a familiar abomination cackles loudly. “HA HA HA HA HA HA! Oh this is great! Breaking their **one** major taboo on a **holiday**! HAHAHAHA-” Any further schadenfreude is cut of by a murder glare from Chara.  
  
The kitchen descends into a suffocating silence as Frisk looks back up at you. The monsters behind them shift uncomfortably but don’t try to get in and out of the cold. You just stand stock still, wracking your memory as to why this is happening.  
  
Reading their face for answers, you see anger being held back. That’s such a rare sight that you almost miss the sorrow permeating the willpower containing it. Closer to the surface of their thoughts you catch resignation and worst of all, disappointment. Shifting your stance, you catch that it all seems to be tied to the sandwich still in your hands.  
  
You look back to the table you grabbed it from for clues: candles, incense holders, various knickknacks, small statues to one side, and framed pictures of various humans on the other including one behind the plate you left oh-  
  
Frisk’s grandfather is their only family member pictured that they met before ending up underground.  
  
The table is Frisk’s religious shrine and you just took the offering to their favorite ancestor.  
  
Well then; you’re boned.

 

You start, “Frisk I-” and then stop as they hand the flowerpot off to Toriel and move towards you. Their face is set with determination and you expect the sandwich to be snatched away and returned, them to push you with their weak arms, or for them to hug you and pretend everything is alright while you watch them hide their sadness for the rest of the party.

 

Instead, they move right past you and say, “Enjoy the sandwich,” in their own painfully scratchy voice and not Chara’s. They head up the stairs and you hear a door close before monsters start coming in.

 

Everyone ignores you as you stand there feeling like the lowest scum of the Earth. Even Papyrus passes and heads up check on Frisk without giving you more than a glance. This confuses you until you realize that you aren’t smiling.  
  
There’s supposed to be a feast after the fire in the yard but you’ve suddenly lost your appetite. You return the half eaten sandwich to where you grabbed it from and send a text to Papyrus and an apology to Frisk before heading home.

 

* * *

 

 

Three weeks pass with no message from Frisk. No selfies of what they’re eating nor updates about shows they’re watching pop up in the numerous social media accounts. You rarely use your own except to comment “so cool” on everything the kid does. You flatter yourself by thinking it’s a good running gag.

 

All the while Papyrus mentions nothing about the incident, mostly acting as if it didn’t happen. But you catch him giving you a sad glance whenever you pass up chances to see the kid without a direct invitation from them. Normally that wouldn’t matter, but...

 

Then you get an email from Chara. They’re stubborn about not wanting to be a part of any social media. It’s oddly formal, as usual, and has a subject line of “On the Incident Which Occurred During the Yule Party.” You really wish they’d relax, though you doubt that’ll ever happen. Being so serious all the time rubs you the wrong way, but at least it feels appropriate this time; like you’re being subpoenaed or something.

 

“Greetings,

 

“I would inquire as to what possessed you to eat food off the shrine after I clearly remember Frisk explaining to you, at length, why they would appreciate it if you didn’t do that, but I suspect that your characteristic laziness played a part in it. Personally, I cannot say I am surprised. However, Frisk is particularly conflicted over your actions and has been doing a poor job at concealing it from me. Ergo, what I would normally consider to not be problem is so regardless.

 

“I know that monsters are not accustomed to dealing with matters of religion. I myself am rather apathetic to it on a consistent basis. Additionally, the “Heathenry” which Frisk practices was a fringe faith during my lifetime a century ago, and I hadn’t even known of it until after the events which brought us to our current situation.

 

“But this is very important and serious to them. I realize you’ll just have to take me at my word when I state that they are unaware of this communication. They wouldn’t want me to tell you this but they would like you to make up for the faux pas you committed. Yet my attempts to get them to inform you of this has been met with despondent dismissal.

 

“They do not want to bother you with something they assume you don’t care about. But I know you care about them.

 

“Whatever you decide to do, know that action is more important than belief in their tradition. You need not be a convert and give a heartfelt apology or anything of that sort. A gift of some personal significance, from you to the offended spirits, should be enough satisfy their distress.

 

“Prompt action on this would be appreciated.  
  
“Sincerely, Chara Dreemurr”

 

You reply with “k” and drop your phone onto the bed. You ponder while tracing shapes on the ceiling for some time.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, you’re at Toriel’s watching tv. You had to reset the parental controls to get the channel you wanted, but you’re barely watching now that the kids should be back from school any minute now. Right on queue, a dinosaur has just started to fight Nazis when the door opens.  
  
There’s a long pause behind you as you suspect Frisk notices the back of your head on the arm of the couch and then looks to their shrine. The silence drags on for long enough to make you nervous you’ve just messed things up even worse. The door closes and you relax as you hear footsteps heading your way instead of up the stairs.  
  
Frisk comes around the corner of the couch, dropping their bag off at the end and Flowey onto the coffee table. They stand by the front of the couch and you lift your legs so they can take a seat before laying your shins over their lap. They watch the movie for a bit with a perfectly neutral expression while you watch them out of the corner of your eye. Flowey eventually gets bored of waiting for any fireworks to light off on the couch and takes the remote to start the show over from the beginning.

 

A laser raptor has just shown up when Frisk pointedly looks over to the shrine. _Did you wash them?_

 

“yep, best of my collection too. only the most stylish holes in any of them.”

 

Frisk smirks at the stack of socks next to their grandpa and relaxes back into the cushion. _I’m sure he appreciates it._

 

A few seconds later, they punch your knee for no damage. “Don’t do that again,” Chara says though you’re pretty sure it’s for Frisk, too.

 

You all watch the movie peacefully until Toriel comes home twenty minutes later and gives you all a thorough scolding.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first story I'm putting up on AO3. I hope you enjoyed it. If not, that's fine, too.


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